"If you find you have a picture of me on one of those shots I can trust you not to keep it?"
"I may have caught you on that first shot. I'll bring it to you to see.
If your hat is tilted too much or you don't like your own expression—"
"I shall not like it, whatever it is. You stole it. That wasn't fair—and when you had just been treated to sandwiches and ginger ale!"
He looked into her brilliant face and could not tell what he saw there. He opened the camera box again and took out the instrument. He removed the roll of films carefully from its position, sealed it, and held it out to her. His manner was the perfection of courtesy.
"There are other pictures on the roll, I suppose?" she said doubtfully, without accepting it.
"Certainly. I forget what they are. But it doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters. Have them developed—and give me back my own."
"If I develop them I shall be obliged to see yours—if you are on it. If
I once see it I may not have the force of character to give it back.
Your only safe course is to take it now."
Ted burst into the affair with a derisive shout. "Oh, Rob! What a silly to care about that little bit of a picture! Let him have it. It was only the horses he wanted anyway!"
The two pairs of eyes met. His were full of deference, yet compelling. Hers brimmed with restrained laughter. With a gesture she waved back the roll and walked away toward the fire.